The Monsters and the Weak
by BatmanReborn
Summary: Bruce Wayne and Officer Dick Grayson are tied up together in a warehouse in Bludhaven as hostages. As negotiations heat up, Bruce learns the horrifying truth of what his son does as an officer of the law.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: The Monsters and The Weak**

 **Summary:** Bruce Wayne and Officer Dick Grayson are tied up together in a warehouse in Bludhaven as hostages. As negotiations heat up, Bruce learns the horrifying truth of what his son does as an officer of the law.

 **Author's Note:** I'm back! I've been re-reading Batman comics and wished they showed more of Officer Grayson and Bruce Wayne! I wanted to show more of what Dick Grayson had to do as an officer and the choices he had to make. Some of you may be surprised by what is revealed later in this chapter and will argue that it goes against Dick's character. Please, just trust me on this as the story evolves. 3

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Batman, Nightwing, or other DC characters.

 _"And maybe just remind the few, if ill of us they speak,_

 _that we are all that stands between_

 _The Monsters And The Weak."_

 _-Michael Marks, Modern War Poem_

* * *

"Alfie has been threatening to tie us together for months to _reconcile_." Dick scoffed, tugging at the manila rope, its edges chaffing his wrists. "You have to laugh at the irony now."

Silence.

Dick resisted the urge to twist his neck around to check if Bruce was still awake. He could sense the rise and fall of Bruce's chest against his back. Its rhythm indicated he was awake, and restraining his anger. Dick resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Would you stop brooding over there? And I swear, if you're creating a list in your head of all the reasons why this is _my_ fault, I don't care if we're tied up together, I'm going to drop kick you."

"Did I teach you nothing?" Bruce snapped.

Dick sighed. Here it comes. Somehow, they were able to work together as Nightwing and Batman without too much of a fight. Yet when Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne came together it either ended up in a fight or a sulking silent treatment.

"To be fair, you never taught me how to tie a tie."

"Is this all a big joke to you?" Bruce said, his voice harsh. His back trembled. "Why did you allow yourself to get kidnapped with me? If you hadn't, you would've been able to save me as..." _Nightwing._

"You're in Bludhaven, Bruce. Kidnappers don't act under the same rulebook as Gotham," Dick grumbled. Why didn't Bruce ever trust him? Batman trusted him as Nightwing, and yet as Bruce Wayne, Dick did everything wrong. "It's not about ransom here. It never is."

"You should've stayed back and done your job," Bruce said.

"My job?" Dick kept his voice from rising. His hands squeezed into fists. "My job tonight as Bludhaven's finest was to act as your protective detail, _Bruce._ My job was to ensure your safety above all else. I'm doing _my_ job."

"You're doing a terrible job of it."

Dick winced and was glad that Bruce couldn't see his face.

Bruce always had a problem with Dick's job as a police officer. From carrying a gun to not having proper backup to lack of protection. Bruce didn't understand why Dick needed to be a police officer to weed out the corruption in the Bludhaven police force.

He never understood anything Dick did.

Dick glanced down at his disheveled police uniform. His gun, baton stick, and taser had been stripped from him. They even found his knife hidden up his sleeves. So much for cutting his way out of this one. He spent the past two minutes trying to figure out how to unpin his badge from his chest to cut through the ropes.

 _Now would be the good time to have telekinesis. Or heat vision._

"Why did you decide to host a party in Bludhaven anyway?" Dick said, trying to redirect the 'who's most at fault' fight.

"If you were still a vital participating member of Wayne Enterprise, you would know that Wayne Entertainment is building a new stadium for Bludhaven Bloodhounds."

Dick gritted his teeth. "I know _why_ you hosted a party. I was wondering you and your social elite class had to mingle at the Bludhaven Natural History Museum."

"It's the only decent place where you can host high-class gathering in Bludhaven."

Dick scoffed. "Only the best for Bruce Wayne."

He remembered a few days ago when Captain Amy Rohrbach took him aside for a private meeting before his patrol shift. She was one of the few officers who knew his relationship with Bruce Wayne. Because Bruce's party was sure to draw in crowds, Dick was assigned to be part of the security detail.

He hoped that meant directing traffic outside of the museum since Bruce had his own security measures and guards.

Instead, Amy assigned her and Dick to be Bruce's watchdogs because they knew what to keep an eye out for in Bludhaven.

Dick wondered if Amy and Alfred were in on it. To his knowledge they've never met, but Alfred was stealthier of all in the Bat family.

"Do you recognized the group who took us?" Bruce whispered.

Ah, Bruce was in Batman-mode now.

Dick thought back to the men dressed in military-black and combat boots who stormed the party from their blind spot, a hallway behind the dinosaur exhibit. Dick had steered Bruce toward the entrance when the guns fired.

Dick winced at the memory.

He'd drawn his own weapon in front of Bruce, trying to find a way to reason with the group before he ended up bargaining his and Bruce's wellbeing for the safety of the other guests.

He shared a quick look with Amy as he was dragged out.

She had been fuming.

"Hired mercenaries," Dick said. "Their loyalty changes depending on who's funding them. Last I saw them, they were guarding Bailey's Church."

"A church?" Bruce asked, aghast.

"Their priest is a member of the Divine Seraphim, an upcoming gang in the Little Drawbridge district." Dick pursed his lips. "Aren't you building the new stadium around that area?"

Bruce ignored that question. "Little Drawbridge. Isn't that one of the districts you frequently patrol?"

Dick's brows creased. "How do you know where I patrol?"

Bruce hissed. "How many run-ins did you have with them in your uniform, Dick?"

He opened his mouth to retort a withy response, but the double doors banged open, drawing in more light into the warehouse room.

Dick knew they were on Wharf Seven in the Narrows, because most of their warehouse windows had bars, much like the small one in the upper left corner of the room he and Bruce were being held in. They were tied with their arms to the side of the chair, their feet tied to the chair legs. The chair's back only had a rest at the top, most of its back were an open space. His and Bruce's lower backs touched one another.

Dick squinted trying to make out the faces of the three entering the room. The light behind them shadowed their features.

The gait from the one in the middle seemed...familiar.

As the figure drew closer, the features became more prominent. Sharp nose, oval face embedded with heavy lines. The man's body wasn't intimidating, but the hatred in his eyes made up for it.

Dick forced a grin. "Ah, Priest Andrews. There's no need for drastic measures, if you wanted me to come down for confessions, all you had to do was ask."

Andrews smiled, and if Dick hadn't grown up being exposed to the Joker's smile, he would have shivered at Andrews'. "Michael?" he asked.

The thick-neck and bald one on his left stepped forward and...

Dick doubled over, wheezing as air escaped his lungs. Dots danced in front of his vision, mocking him. The binds cut into his wrist and he felt blood pooling between his skin and the rope.

As he blinked his vision to normal, he noticed Andrews had approached Bruce. "I hadn't realized you were acquaintance with our esteemed guest, Officer Grayson."

"The...play...boy?" Dick asked between breaths. "Just met him...tonight." He turned his head and caught a glimpse of Andrews standing in front of Bruce. How were they going to play their way out of this one?

They were both civilians right now.

Well, technically, Bruce was and Dick was still operating under police duty. Heh. Who would've thought? Bruce Wayne and Officer Grayson held hostage together.

"Hmmm." Andrews trialed a finger along Bruce's jaw. "Mr. Wayne. I should be thanking you. Your new stadium will bring much needed business in my line of work!"

"I hope you get a lot of offerings during your Sunday church sessions, Priest...Andrews, was it?" Bruce said.

Dick resisted the urge to smile. There were times when Dick greatly enjoyed Bruce's playboy billionaire charm.

Andrew chuckled as if laughing at his own joke. "Ah, yes. Much donations indeed." He folded his arms across his chest. "I'm curious. What is your initial impression of Officer Grayson?"

Dick wanted to breathe a sigh of relief that he had been out of Bruce's spotlight for the past three years. Sure, it helped that Bludhaven didn't pay much attention to Gotham's gossip and news of the upper class, but no one had yet to connect Officer Richard Grayson to Bruce Wayne yet.

Discounting Amy and a handful of his fellow police officers.

"A respectable officer of the law," Bruce said.

Dick's brows rose. He wished he got _that_ recorded.

Andrews barked a raucous laughter. "Ah, such naivety," he said, wiping a fake tear. "There's no respectable officer in Bludhaven, Mr. Wayne." He gripped a bundle of Dick's hair and pulled tightly causing tears to spring to Dick's eyes. "Officer Grayson most of all."

Dick's heart pattered hard, blood whooshed in his ears.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Bruce said, the low-baritone of Batman slipping into his voice. Dick could sense the wheels turning in Bruce's head as he tried to make sense of what Andrews told him.

Priest Andrews only chuckled. He tipped Dick's head back, exposing his Adam's apple. Andrews ran a thumb over it as it bobbed. "Should you tell him, Officer? Or shall I?"

Dick glared at Andrews. He had to have known that Dick was Bruce's ward. Why play this game? Like playboy Bruce would care whether or not a cop was corrupt.

"Sir!" a man's voice boomed from the doors. "We got the police on the line."

"I wonder, Grayson, how much you're worth to your little precinct."

"Bludhaven Police does not negotiate with scumbags," Dick said.

"Hmmm." Andrews threw Dick's head against the back of the chair and Dick gasped at the explosion of pain that shivered throughout his head and down his neck.

By the time he regathered his bearings, the trio had left the room, the doors slamming shut with an echo of finality.

"Dick, stop provoking him!" Bruce hissed.

Dick licked his lips and smacked them. "Oh, I'm going to have a killer of a headache in a minute."

"If you stopped provoking him and started asking him questions, we would've gotten answers to why we're here! Did you remember anything I taught you?"

"He wouldn't have told us anything, Bruce. This is all just a game to him. Provoking him proved just one thing."

"What's that?"

Dick sighed. He didn't want to admit that Bruce was right. "It's me they want. You're an added bonus."

Silence.

Damn it. It was his fault.

"You two have history," Bruce pointed out.

 _Keen observation._ "Bound to be, I've patrolled his district frequently the past year."

"What did he mean by..." Bruce's voice trailed off.

 _What's the matter, Bruce? Scared to ask the question? Scared to find out how much more of a disappointment I am? How much I keep failing you?_

"By me not being a respectable officer of the law?" Dick finished for him. He blew up a lock of hair that fell in front of his left eye. He thought for a moment, trying to construct an answer that didn't give the whole truth. "He has no love for Bludhaven's police, Bruce. They took away two of his sons."

"Why did he ask how much you were worth?" Bruce pressed. "I thought you said Bludhaven's criminals didn't do ransom."  
They didn't. And he wasn't about to tell Bruce exactly what Andrews was trying to negotiate with his force. The priest was probably talking to Amy right now. "We need to focus on getting you out of here, Bruce."

"You mean getting _us_ out of here," Bruce whispered.

 _I won't be getting out of this one._ "Yeah," Dick said. "Sorry, still in Officer Grayson mode, Mr. Wayne."

"If you two had history, how come Bludhaven's police don't have any record of him?" Bruce said.

"You mean records you can hack into? Ah, we're mostly old school. Still do things by paper. We don't exactly have the fine technology that Gotham has..." He then added in a low whisper, "Or Batman."

"Damn it, Dick. This is why I didn't want you to become a cop. For this reason specifically! You're putting your civilian life at risk."

Dick released a bitter laugh. "Bruce, being your ward put my civilian life at risk! How's this any different?"

"Because you don't have Batman to watch your back!" Bruce snarled.

Dick's mouth clamped shut. Was that what this whole thing was about? Because Bruce couldn't protect him?

Bruce panted. "And being an officer goes against everything I taught you. Against your oath."

Dick swallowed. "Is this about wielding a gun?"

"It's more than that, Dick," Bruce said.

"I have to do this, Bruce. It's the only way I can clean out the corruption in Bludhaven's police force. And..." A pounding started to form throughout Dick's skull. Ah, great. "I needed to grow out of your shadows. Out of Batman's. Out of Bruce's. I needed to..." _Become my own man._ He couldn't voice that aloud.

"You could've done that without becoming an officer, Dick. There were other ways. You chose the path I hated the most."

Was that why Dick chose to be an officer? No. It was more than that reason. Choosing this path was not one that Dick chose lightly.

Dick twisted his feet a bit, trying to find a looseness in the ropes tied around his ankles. The guys who tied the ropes were professionals at this. He bit back a groan. Nightwing and Batman could've already gotten out of this. Why not Bruce Wayne and Officer Grayson?

"I didn't choose to be a police officer to spite you, Bruce. I chose it because I wanted to make a difference in this godforsaken town. I mean, Hell is a paradise compared to this place. I did it because I wanted the challenge. I did it because..." He wondered if he should continue with that sentence. He held onto his courage and finished it. "...because I knew I couldn't accomplish it as Nightwing."

He didn't know why he was telling Bruce this. Why now? Because it may be the last time...a lump formed in his throat.

"Nightwing could've accomplished it with Batman," Bruce whispered and Dick could hear the tight sadness in his voice, the betrayal that he still carried.

"What am I capable of outside of Batman? Outside of Bruce Wayne?" Dick whispered back, lowering his head in shame.

"Oh, chum..." Bruce said softly.

Warmth spread within Dick's chest at the familiar nickname. He hadn't been called that in quite a while.

"You are..."

The doors boomed open once more and heavy footfalls drew their way. Each step pounded in collision with Dick's pulsing headache.

Dick kept his gaze to the ground, trying to work up the courage, to work up who he was as Dick Grayson, who he was in his heart.

Andrews chuckled darkly.

"You're worth _nothing,_ Officer Grayson."

"How much do you want?" Bruce said. "I can pay, whatever you wish!"

Andrews laughed. "Oh! How noble. Have you bonded so much in your short time together?"

"Name your price," Bruce pleaded.

Dick winced to hear it. Batman would never plead. Bruce would...and part of him wondered how much Bruce truly meant it.

"I'm so touched by this. Mr. Wayne. I'm not negotiating for money, and you can't give me what I want."

"What do you want?"

Andrews' tongue clicked in his mouth. "Oh, Richard. How long are you two going to continue this little ruse? Go on, tell your precious foster daddy what I want."

 _Damn it. He did know!_ Dick controlled his breathing, steadied it and raised his eyes to meet Andrews' gaze. He glared in defiance and seized the courage in his heart. "A clear pathway to Heaven."

 _Smack!_

Dick's cheek stun, he could feel the burning pain of a cut that Andrews' ring created upon the impact. He hissed between his teeth and chuckled.

Andrews' dark glare bored into him. A cruel smirk formed. "Mr. Wayne. How did your parents die? Gunned down like nothing, am I correct?"

"Don't you dare speak of them," Bruce snarled, sounding more like Batman.

"Gunned down right in front of you. It must've been a terrifying sight. Witnessing a cruel man take away everything you love with two mere tugs of his finger."

Dick knew that Bruce was giving Andrews his Batman-death glare.

"You have a precious relationship with your ward, don't you? You were so eager to give up all your money for him, perhaps more if I pressed."

"Andrews, leave him alone," Dick snarled.

"You hated the man who gunned down your parents, don't you? You want revenge on him? You wish to kill him with every fiber of your being. Am I right?"

Bruce's breathing grew heavy yet he didn't respond.

Andrews' smirk grew and he leaned in toward Bruce's ears, yet Dick caught the whisper that would tear Bruce further away from him. The words that would shatter Bruce's heart. "Your precious boy here _gunned_ down _my own son_ in cold blood."

Bruce jerked violently as if he been smacked. "You...you're a cruel liar," Bruce snarled.

"Oh..." Andrews patted Bruce's cheek. "I can show you proof."

* * *

 _And the tension rises! Dun dun dun!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: The Monsters and The Weak**

 **Chapter Two**

 **Summary:** Bruce Wayne and Officer Dick Grayson are tied up together in a warehouse in Bludhaven as hostages. As negotiations heat up, Bruce learns the horrifying truth of what his son does as an officer of the law.

 **Author's Note: Thank you ALL for your kind reviews, for the follows and favorites! They mean the world to me and they've touched me 3 Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy the continuation of the story.**

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Batman, Nightwing, or other DC characters.

 _"Any officer who is doing the right thing on a daily basis would want to have a camera on them"_

 _-Commander Chris Peters, Parker PD_

* * *

"Bruce?"

The silence stretched on. Andrews had left the room once again, probably to go gather said evidence. Dick knew what that evidence would be. Damn it. He didn't want Bruce to see it.

"Bruce?" Dick whispered once more. "Please say something."

"How close are you to breaking free from your binds?" Bruce asked in a low gravelly voice.

Deflection. Classic Bruce. Always slipping back into his Batman persona.

Bruce was his father. Batman was his partner. Why couldn't Dick ever have both? Why was it always one or the other? He used to have both when he was Robin, growing up...

How did he lose it?

"Richard!" Bruce's voice cut through Dick's thoughts.

He blinked, swallowed, and tested his binds. "Hand binds are loosened a bit. Still working on my foot binds. You?"

No response.

Dick scoffed. Of course. In the silence, he worked on his binds and twisted his wrists, loosening the ropes' hold.

"I don't believe him," came the soft whisper.

Dick flinched. Bruce's voice sounded so broken, so heavy and conflicted. "You sound like you do."

"I know you, Dick, you wouldn't have."

Dick closed his eyes and exhaled a heavy sigh. He needed to know. "What if I did?"

"You wouldn't!" Bruce exploded. "You promised me that if you used a gun as an officer, you would never use it to kill."

Dick swallowed. "I never said that. I said I would use it as a last resort." When he swore his oath as a police officer, he swore to protect everyone involved, including the suspect. As an officer, violence was always the last option.

"The Dick Grayson I know would never have killed someone as a last resort," Bruce said. "He would've found a way to save them. The Dick Grayson I _kno_ w uses hope as a last resort."

Dick opened his eyes, watching the streaks of a streetlight peer through the window of the room. He smiled. "That's what you see me as?"

"It's why I didn't want you to be a police officer, Dick. I was afraid a life of being a vigilante and officer would warp your inner goodness and take it away. Take away...you."

Various emotions washed over Dick. Dare he think it, did Bruce sound almost...proud of him? Was that even possible?

The doors opened and Andrews wheeled in a small television on a mini-cart, static lines trailing on the screen.

Andrews' two henchmen walked in behind him and took their place on Dick's left side, one next to Bruce and the other next to Dick.

On their right, Andrews rolled his fingers on top of the television screen. "This was taken from a gas station across the street. Terrible quality, I know. But it'll prove my point."

"Andrews..." Dick threatened. "What do you even hope to gain from this?"

"I only wish to reveal the truth to Mr. Wayne. It's obvious he cares much about you. Do you know that he had adoption papers drawn up several months ago to legally claim you as his son?"

Dick inhaled sharply. What?

He felt Bruce stiffened behind him.

Dick recalled one fight where Bruce had angrily declared that Dick was not his son. It still left a stinging hurt, like a burned wound that would never heal.

"I'm here to show him the truth. That you're not worthy of being called _his_ son," Andrews said.

Dick glowered. His initial reaction of surprise and childlike happiness immediately squashed by the bitter reality of where he and Bruce were.

"Bruce..." Dick started. "You have to know..."

Michael, Andrew's bigger henchman, clamped a hand over Dick's mouth.

Andrews smiled cruelly and pressed the _play_ button on the VCR.

Static still flickered across the screen.

Static.

Static.

A video began to play out on the television. A grainy colored video of a pedestrian sidewalk, in front of a laundromat and pizza joint. Dick drove down Avalon Hill Street enough times to recognize it as several blocks up from Bailey's Church. A group of teenage girls walked by, giggling and chatting about something. A man strutted by, guiding his dog with a leash.

A young man rushes down the street, dressed in a baggy hoodie. Memories of that day replayed in Dick's head and he could clearly see the mop of brown hair, the pathetic attempt of a goatee. Andrews' second eldest son, Cian Andrews, the heir to the Divine Seraphim criminal organization.

On the screen, Cian suddenly stumbled to a halt, stopping just before the edge of the right frame. His hands are in the air, a gun in his left hand.

The screen showed Dick rushing toward Cian, dressed in his finest police uniform, the dark navy blue jacket over his white. He held a gun in his right hand, the grip steadied by his left. He was shouting at Cian, yet no sound played.

Dick could hear the words spoken in his head:

 _"Freeze! Turn around, Cian! There's nowhere left for you to go!"_

Cian slowly turned, a dangerous glare cast at Dick.

Dick remained unfazed. _"Drop your weapon. This is your last warning."_

Cian chuckled. _"I'm not going to be taken in by you. Either shoot me, or let me go."_

Dick shook his head, a lock of his black hair dropped over his left eye. _"Lower your weapon, Cian. You're under arrest."_

Cian's smirk fell. " _There is a third option."_ He moved to shoot but Dick beats him to it. Cian immediately dropped his gun and grabbed his left shoulder, his face in a grimace of pain.

On the chair, Dick felt Bruce recoil and flinched.

 _I'm so sorry, Bruce. I'm sorry you had to see this._

Cian is shouting something at Dick on the television screen and Dick remembered the threats Cian sprouted out as fear and shock overcame his body.

The gun in Dick's hands trembled and then suddenly went still.

Cian reached into the pocket of his hoodie yet Dick is quicker.

Bruce gasped as the screen showed Dick blasting two more shots into Cian's torso before the young man stumbled onto his back.

Dick is stoic on the screen, no emotions played across his features as he pulls out his radio.

The video returned to static.

"My boy Cian was reaching for his black bible," Andrews said. "And Officer Grayson here decides to shot two more slugs into my BOY!" He pushes the television off the cart and it crashes onto the floor.

He circled to Bruce. "Tell me, Mr. Wayne, and be honest, how does it feel to witness your _boy_ , your boy that you took in out of the kindness of your heart, that you helped raise, that you guided and nurture, _murder_ my son?"

Dick's chest constricted as Bruce's body begins to tremble.

"Bruce..." Dick cried out and Michael's hand over his mouth tightened.

"Tell me!" Andrews bellowed.

"Disappointed..." Bruce whispered out.

Dick closed his eyes, fighting back the tears.

"Disappointed and...betrayed."  
 _Bruce...I'm so sorry._

"Do you feel as if this man you saw on the screen is your son? Or do you feel as if he's the same killer who murdered your parents?"

 _You twisted son of a bitch,_ Dick thought.

"I'll answer this for you, Mr. Wayne. He's the same as that killer."

"Andrews!" Dick yelled but it's muffled by Michael's hand.

"Ah, listen to him, Mr. Wayne. Listen to him try to validate this. Let him go, Michael, I would love to hear his justifications."

Michael released him and Dick worked his jaw to ease the numbness.

Andrews had stepped back, gauging Dick like a man on death row. "What's your pathetic excuse, _Officer?_ "

"Leave Bruce alone. Leave him out of this."

Andrews placed a hand over his chest. "Oh," he glanced at Bruce. "I apologize for this, Mr. Wayne. I have no quarrel with you." He turned back to Dick. "I'm telling Mr. Wayne the truth, because a _father_ deserves to know the truth of his son." He knelt down in front of Dick, brushing a fake lint from Dick's knee. "Now. Tell me why you gunned down my son."

Dick's jaw worked. "He was a threat to the city of Bludhaven that needed to be neutralized."

"Neutralized?" Andrews blinked, red shading his features. "Neutralized?" He smacked Dick once more as he rose to his feet. "HE WAS MURDERED!" His chest panted like a rabid dog. "He was my HEIR! MY FAVORITE BOY! I groomed him for the family business and you KILLED HIM!"

He tore off Dick's badge and shoved it into Dick's mouth, causing him to gag. The edges rubbed roughly against the corner of his mouth.

"What justification is THAT?"

An idea seemed to spark through Andrews' head, cooling his rage.

"What if I neutralized your family? Hmmm?"

Dick jerked in his binds, he lunged forward, his words muffling through the badge in his mouth.

"What's that? I can't understand you!"

 _Don't you dare hurt, Bruce!_

Andrews disappeared from Dick's view.

 _No! No!_ Dick yanked and yanked and pulled on his ropes. Suddenly his arms were free and he crashed down onto the cold floor as his leg binds held him in place. The momentum caused the badge to tumble from his mouth, saliva and blood spattered upon the cement.

"Leave him alone! Don't you dare touch him!" Dick yelled. Hands gripped Dick's shoulders. Panic seized him. Bruce! "Fine! Fine! I killed Cian because..." _Don't tell him the truth._ _LIE!_ "Because he was in my way!"

Andrews appeared in front of Dick's sight and gripped his chin. He held up a revolver in his other hand.

Dick's breathing quickened. _Get out, Bruce. Get out._

"In your way? Elaborate. Or Mr. Wayne here..."

"You said you had no quarrel with him. This is between you _and_ me," Dick said.

"Elaborate!" Andrews barked.

 _Get him to focus on you. Get him to forget about Bruce._ _Make it personal._ _Make him believe it._

Dick glowered, trying to make his best Batman-glare impression.

Andrews' paled.

"He was in my way to get to _you._ "

Andrews' nostrils flared. In a blink, he lowered the gun, pointed it, and...

Dick blinked. It felt like someone threw a heavy pebble at his left shoulder before he heard the loud bang of the revolver.

A hot pursing sensation erupted in his shoulder. _Pain!_ Dick cried out. Voices garbled in his ears and Dick blinked away from the pain.

 _It's pain. Just pain. Focus. FOCUS!_

"DICK!" Bruce was screaming. "Dick!"

Dick blinked, trying to rid the blurriness from his vision. As it focused, he noticed Andrews relining his gun. "You shot my boy in the shoulder first. Then two in the chest."

"No!" Dick could hear Bruce struggling violently in his binds, causing the chairs to move and pull at Dick's ankles. "Please, Andrews!"

"You let him go," Dick said. He was surprised he was capable of speaking. "He doesn't need to see this."

"I watched my son die. It's only fair you watch someone you love die." He nodded at his two guards.

They slashed at the binds at Dick's ankle and yanked him back. Dick cried out in pain as the burning sensation increased. Why was it burning? Make it stop!

 _Stop. Focus. Save Bruce. Save Bruce. Save Bruce._

They pulled him across the floor and forced him to his knees a couple feet in front of Bruce's chair.

Bruce's eyes were wide, his face stricken and covered his sweat. "Oh, Dick...You leave him alone!" The veins on his neck pulsed as he struggled against the binds.

"I'm sorry, Bruce. I'm so..."

Michael dug a finger into Dick's bullet wound and the burning sensation increased. Blood seeped out, soaking Dick's sleeve.

"AH!" Dick screamed.

"Stop it!" Bruce cried.

Michael twisted his finger, poking it along the inner muscles and at the bullet still lodged within. How was the bullet still in the—

"AAH!" Dick cried out once more.

"Dick!"

The other henchman gripped Dick's chin and forced him to look at Bruce.

Andrews trained the barrel of a gun at Bruce.

"No! Andrews! Don't," Dick pleaded.

"You didn't give my boy a choice," Andrews said.

A yell pierced through the moment: "Sir! The police called back. They're willing to negotiate."

Andrews kept his gun on Bruce.

"Mr. Andrews. They said they're willing to add in Evan's release."

Andrews stepped back with a shocked gasp.

 _What? Evan's? What's Amy doing? What..._ Dick groaned as he was thrown onto the floor, on his wounded shoulder. He released a cry as footsteps receded.

 _Focus. Move, Dick. Get Bruce out._

"Dick!" Bruce cried out. "Oh, god, Dick!" He struggled with his binds, shaking, trying to pry free.

"Hold on, Bruce." _MOVE!_ Dick forced the pain from his thoughts, his shoulder was beginning to numb anyway. He crawled over and grabbed his badge.

"Dick. What are you? Stop moving, come here!"

Dick pulled the pin free from his badge. He gasped as pain exploded in his shoulder when he moved his left arm. "Shit!" Dick hissed. He inhaled through his teeth, gritted his jaw and got to his knees, wobbling over to Bruce.

He stuck the pin into the rope around Bruce's right hand. The room spun and Dick collapsed onto his back.

"Dick! Dick!"

Why was the room still spinning? Dick was lying still. He closed his eyes, forcing the pain away. _It's just pain. It's just pain._

"Dick!" Pressure pushed down on his wound and Dick's eyes shot opened at the pain. Bruce was over him, pressing his suit jacket into Dick's shoulder. How did he get free so fast? How long had Dick been lying here? "You're losing blood. We need to..."

Dick gripped Bruce's wrists with his right hand. "Go...out the window. Now. Get help. Get Amy."

"I'm not leaving you," Bruce said.

"Yes, you are!" Dick cried out. "Yes, you are!"

The shock and frantic panic slipped from Bruce's features. It was replaced by...awareness? Of what?

"Go. Escape now. Let me...let me do one thing right..."

"Dick." Bruce cradled the back of Dick's neck with his other hand. "Listen to me. I'm never leaving you."

"Bruce. Please. I can't watch you die."

Bruce shook his head. "You're my son. You mean the world to me. I'm _not_ leaving you."

A flood of relief washed over Dick. He winced as Bruce reapplied pressure to his shoulder. It had gone numb now. That wasn't a good sign.

"Bruce..." Dick coughed. "We might die here..."

Bruce smiled, it looked strained, almost forced, yet, reassuring. "We might. But I'm not leaving you."

* * *

...


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N** : Thank you for your kind reviews! You guys all rock. Hope you enjoy the following chapter. Warning for sensitive and strong torture material.

 **Disclaimer** : Don't own DC Comics or characters. I do own a badass Nightwing sweater :)

 _"Law enforcement officers are never 'off duty.'_

 _They are dedicated public servants who are sworn to protect public safety at any time and place that the peace is threatened._

 _They need all the help that they can get."_

 _-Barbara Boxer_

* * *

Dick's breathing became labored. He struggled to inhale a deep breath, which didn't make sense. He'd been shot in the shoulder, not the lungs. His brain became foggy, becoming harder to grasp and focus on each thought.

"Dick!" Bruce cried out.

Dick blinked, jerking back into complete awareness.

There was no pain, shock had now numbed his body.

Bruce kept the pressure on Dick's shoulder, preventing further blood flow. "Talk to me. Quick. What are they negotiating?"

Dick chuckled bitterly.

"Dick, I need to understand what his endgame is."

"Isn't it obvious? Use your logic, Bruce," Dick snapped.

"Dick..." Bruce cupped Dick's cheek with his right hand. "Chum, _please."_

Dick's heart twisted at his words. Damn it. He grimaced as he shifted. A spasm of pain shot throughout him. He focused on Bruce's touch as if it would help his mind stay lucid. "He's trying to get the autopsy report of Cian Andrews."

Bruce raised a brow. "How do you know? He never stated that's what he wanted."

"His oldest son, Evan...was arrested a couple years ago and sentenced to jail. Before he was transferred to prison, an officer with a vendetta beat Evan within an inch of his life."

Dick swallowed as his thoughts turned to how he was going get Bruce out of this, he should've eaten those clam puffs at the party, now his last meal would be Fruit Loops. Which was rather fitting, wasn't it? Because...

"Dick!"

Dick blinked. "Andrews kidnapped the officer several weeks later, and made a deal with Bludhaven PD. Give him the exact medical and police report of Evan's injuries, or... he'll be liberated to go to more extremes in...enacting his revenge."

Bruce shook his head, trying to make sense of all of this. "He wants to reenact the same specific injury that his sons experienced to the officer that harmed them."

"Like I said. Not much of a negotiation," Dick said. "It's all a game. Bludhaven PD never negotiated, so Andrews improvised, and the officer was tortured for weeks before he was dropped off at a nearby hospital. He died hours later from his wounds."

When Dick got captured, he immediately knew what would happened. Three shots would be fired upon him, but he knew Andrews had more hurt in plan for him. He wasn't an idiot. He wasn't going to die today, but he would be begging for death before the end.

At least... _he_ was safe.

Dick wished he could say the same for Bruce. He needed to get Bruce out of this.

"He never intends to let you go," Bruce said.

"No. But we can get him to let _you_ go."

Bruce glared, opened his mouth to argue but closed it. Instead, he burrowed his brow. "Why are the police negotiating now? To exchange us for Evan?"

That set Dick into high alert. Why were Bludhaven PD negotiating? They've never negotiated... "We got a new captain...my old partner, Amy." Dick shook his head. "But...she'll get into so much trouble. And she wouldn't be able to pull of that promise. Unless..."

Something about new equipment sparked within Dick's brain. Dick searched through the foggy haze of his mind to his memories. He gasped.

"They're tracing the call," Dick and Bruce both exclaimed.

Heavy footsteps sounded and Andrews burst into the room. He caught sight of them and cackled.

"How admirable. You know what he's done, and you still strive to save him," Andrews said to Bruce.

Dick saw Bruce's eyes narrowed, analyzing and reading the situation at hand. He could read Bruce's thoughts: Three people. Only three. I can take them.

"I'd ask how you got out of that chair, but I supposed you just made my job a bit easier," Andrews said. He snapped his fingers and several more men stormed into the room.

Dick struggled to count them. Seven? Nine?

Bruce panicked and gripped onto Dick

"Today's your lucky day, Mr. Wayne. You're a free man," Andrews said.

Bruce shook his head. "I'm not going anywhere without my son."

"How touching," Andrews said, mockingly.

Dick felt Bruce's hold tightened as the men drew close.

"I'll...be okay, Bruce."

"No, Dick!"

Four of the men reached out for Bruce who flinched.

"Let me say goodbye! Don't you wished you had that chance with your son?" Bruce shot out.

He was only delaying the ineffable. Bruce knew that. Dick knew that. Damn. Was this it? Was Dick really going to die here in exchanged...

He'd do it again in a heartbeat. No. Dick had no regrets. That kid got another chance at life.

But...leaving Bruce behind. Would this destroy him? No. It'll be okay. Bruce had two adopted sons back home...he'll move on. He'll be fine.

Bruce was yanked from Dick, onto his feet.

"Let me say goodbye!" Bruce cried out once more.

"Enough," Andrews said. He stared at Bruce, gauging him. He sighed. "Let him pay his respects."

The men released him and Bruce was suddenly at Dick's side.

"Dick...you're going to be okay. You're going to be..."

"I'm sorry, Bruce. For dragging you into this...for all those fights..."

If this was his last chance with Bruce, what did he have to lose?

Bruce shook his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. The stoic Bruce was crying...over him?

"Don't be sorry, chum. I'm sorry. I...you grew up so fast that I still see you as the bright eight year boy I took in, and it took me a long time to see that you've grown into a man...a respectable man I'm proud to call my son."

Tears welled in Dick's eyes. That's all he ever wanted to hear.

"I..." _Say it. Bruce deserves to hear it. And you've always wanted to say it._ "I love you, Dad."

Bruce blinked, shocked. More tears spilled from his eyes.

"Oh...Dick. I..." He pressed his forehead against Dick's, his chest racking with sobs. "Let me stay with him."

"I allowed you a goodbye, Mr. Wayne," Andrews' voice boomed. "Don't press your luck."

"Move on, Bruce. Don't carry me like you carry your parents," Dick said. He didn't want to me the extra drive that motivated Bruce's, hell, Batman's, crusade against crime. "Let me go."

"Impossible. You're my whole world, chum," Bruce said.

Dick's chest squeezed. Why? Why now? Why did it have to take his looming death to make them stop dancing around how much they cared about each other? All those years of fighting, all those months not speaking, what were they so afraid of?

Hands wrapped around Bruce's arms. "No."

He was yanked back and Dick reached out for him. He grunted as blood slipped out of his wound and pressed Bruce's coat against it. He watched as the men forced Bruce back.

Despair filled Bruce's eyes and suddenly, something in him snapped. He fought within their clutches.

 _No. Your identity!_

Bruce managed to knock out four of the nine men before they piled on top of him. Dick winced as Michael knocked Bruce unconscious. The other men separated from the pile, and Michael lifted Bruce up over his shoulder like a heavy duffel bag. His guardian...his father slept, breathing heavily.

"Was that really necessary?" Dick spat out. "You didn't have to knock him out."

Andrews' eyes flashed dangerously to him. "You know what to do," he said to his men. They left the room to him and Andrews, and the four unconscious men.

"Your goodbyes to one another was beautiful, I nearly wept a tear."

"Where are you taking him?" Dick stressed.

Andrews knelt down to Dick, his kneecaps pressing against Dick's calves. "Oh, it appears Mr. Wayne is worth so much. An even exchanged. My son for your daddy."

What? What was Amy thinking? There was no way it could happen that fast. There were various protocols involved before they released a prisoner.

The pain was dulling his senses, and Dick knew that.

"And you..." Andrews patted Dick's cheek. "I'm free to do whatever I want with you."

"Well, congratulations, but I just want to let you know, I don't swing that way," Dick said.

Andrews chuckled. "Ah, that marvelous wit."

Dick heard the backfire of a truck and the sound of the engine rattling.

"You, Officer Grayson, you are all mine."

Dick inhaled a deep breath. What did he have to lose now? He bashed his forehead against Andrews, pulled back his knee and jammed his foot into Andrews' stomach. The man stumbled back.

Dick ignored the pain as he scrambled to his feet, leaving Bruce's jacket behind. He rushed out the room and he could hear Andrews cursing loudly behind him.

Out in the hallway, there were several tables, smoke still rose from the discarded cigarettes in the ashtrays. He rushed past the tables and toward the loading dock.

Michael and the other henchman were there, talking amongst themselves.

Dick leaped from the platform and his feet landed on Michael's back. He pushed the bottom palm of his hand against the man's neck. He rolled toward the ground and winced as pain flooded from his shoulder. Blood platted down the cement and a wave of dizziness overwhelmed him.

He quickly whirled and punched the charging henchman.

Dick was suddenly tackled to the ground. Dots danced around in his vision and Dick struggled against the heavy weight on top of him. Arms wrapped around him and Dick cried out as he was placed in a headlock and forced to his knees. Damn it, this Michael guy could give Blockbuster a run for his money.

White rolled through his vision and heat flushed through him, making lose awareness. Blood loss. Shock. Pain. Dick listed off.

Dick shot his foot back, trying to strike Michael. The man didn't budge. He was like the freaken Hulk!

His vision returned as he heard the sound of slow applause. Andrews walked down the stairs, blood pooling from the bottom of his nose.

"I'm impressed. You put up a much better fight than the last one."

Dick huffed and flared his nostrils. He struggled underneath Michael's grip. Dizziness overcame him once more. If he wasn't shot, he could easily get out of this! Why was his body betraying him? All that training gone because his body decided to go into shock!

"You see, Officer Grayson, I don't really want to kill you today. A man of your caliber deserves nice long death sentence. The question is..."

"Oh, spare me the bad guy monologue," Dick said. His quip came out weak and strained.

Andrews smiled nonetheless. He gripped Dick's chin. "I want to break you." He stepped back. "Michael. Allan. He's all yours."

Michael laughed in Dick's ears and chills trembled down Dick's spine.

Allan came over, a nasty eager smirk on his face. His hands roamed across Dick's chest and then to Dick's belt, working it loose.

No! Panic seized Dick and he lifted his legs up, pushing Allan away.

Michael's arms around his neck tightened and Dick struggled to draw in a breath. His hands reached up, his lungs begging for air. His left hand was covered in blood and his strength weakened.

He drew in a raspy breath as Michael slightly released his hold. _Move!_ Dick's body twitched and he struggled to order his brain to move, to FIGHT!

Hands returned to his loose belt and it was yanked from his pants. Allan worked on the pants button and Dick heard the sickening sound of the zipper being pulled down. His breathing quickened.

Dick regained control of his body and thrashed. He was suddenly thrown to the floor, face first. He scrambled to get up but a knee pressed against his wounded shoulder and he released a shout. More weight pressed against his back, holding him steady.

Dick's pants were yanked down and cold air smacked against his exposed butt.

 _No! No!_

Fingers gripped Dick's hair and pulled his face upward. He met Andrew's sneering features.

"Where's that sharp wit now?" Andrews taunted.

Hands fumbled around Dick's butt.

"Don't..." _Damn it._ "Don't do this."

Andrews wasn't even fazed. "You didn't give my son a chance. Why should I give you one?"

Dick jerked at the sudden probing. He glowered at Andrews, trembling with embarrassment, shame, and hurt.

"You're a twisted son of a bitch," Dick snarled.

Andrews smiled cruelly. "I know."

"Bludhaven PD! Hands up! Hands up!" a familiar female voice shouted.

"Shit!" Allan exclaimed.

Pressure lifted from Dick's body and he sagged in relief. He pressed his forehead against the floor and shut his eyes.

"Back away! Now!" Amy yelled. "You, Rogers! Take care of him!" Footsteps rushed toward him and he felt a jacket wrap around his exposed body. "Oh, partner," Amy whispered, running her fingers through his hair. "Somebody get those paramedics in here NOW!"

Dick shifted his head and smiled up at Amy. "We're not partners anymore," he teased.

She faked a scowl. "We're always partners, Dick. Get that through your thick skull." Her eyes welled in concern. "I'm so glad I found you. When you get better, I'm going to kill you for giving yourself up like that."

"We...got him...didn't we?" Dick said.

Amy sighed. "The price was almost too high."

Dick widened his eyes. "Bruce! Where's..."

"It's okay, Dick. It's okay. I have my most trusted officers on it." She glanced at something over his back. "You! Make way! He's been shot and..."

The rest of her words faded as the darkness reached for him. It gripped him from reality and tugged him into a world of sleep.

His last thought was:

 _Bruce..._

* * *

A pounding headache brought Bruce back. He winced as the blood whooshed in his ears. He slowly opened his eyes and saw four men in the sitting in the back of a moving van with him.

Bruce was slumped into a poor sitting position near the front of the van, his back against the wall that separated them from the driver's side. Confined space. Not a lot of room to move. He could make this work in his favor.

Nobody took him away from _his_ son. Worry flooded through him for Dick's safety. He glowered at the four men. They would pay for taking him away from his son.

He heard the van roll to a stop, the engine left idling.

 _Now._

With an angry cry, Bruce flew from his seat, grabbing the head of the man next to him and jammed his knee into the man's face.

Bruce used the man's body and bowled it against the other three. The back doors of the van burst open by the weight of the men. All four tumbled out.

As Bruce rushed to the doors, a surprise caused him to halt.

Jim Gordon pulled the cigarette from his mouth and cocked a brow at Bruce. "Those self-defense classes are really paying off."

Bruce took in the sight of Bludhaven and Gotham PD surrounding the four men on the ground. Jim stepped up to the van and held out a helping hand for Bruce.

"When you've been kidnapped one too many times, it comes in handy," Bruce found himself saying as he took Jim's helping hand. He nearly stumbled off the van.

Jim steadied him. "You alright, Bruce? You're not injured, are you?"

"Dick," Bruce cried out. "Dick's still back there! He's been shot..."

Jim held up a hand, his cigarette between his forefinger and middle one. "They have him, Bruce. He's enroute to the hospital."

Relief caused Bruce's knees to wobble. "Oh, thank..." He turned to Jim. "What are you doing in Bludhaven?"

Jim shrugged. "I got a call from Bludhaven PD demanding me to get my sorry ass down here and rescue my idiotic flamboyant citizen."

Bruce glared, waiting for the whole truth to be exposed.

Jim chuckled. "Alright. Dick may be a member of Bludhaven PD, but according to me, he's one of my own. Nobody messes with our own."

Bruce smiled. Only Dick could inspire that type of blind loyalty. There was something special about him.

Jim pulled Bruce aside, away from prying ears as the officers arrested Andrews' men.

"Besides, I'm part of the little secret that Amy, Dick, and Nightwing are a part of," Jim said.

"Secret?"

Jim narrowed his gaze at him. "You're sure you're not injured?"

"They knocked me out, but I don't think I have a concussion."

"Ah, we'll get it checked out. I'll drive you to the hospital myself."

Jim guided Bruce to his unmarked detective's car. Bruce slipped into the front passenger seat, his heart hammering as he thought of Dick's condition. Did Andrews do more harm to his son? Was Dick bleeding internally? How bad was the bullet wound?

Jim sat into the front seat and tossed his cigarette out the window. He drove the car away from the scene.

Bruce held onto the last image he had of Dick before they ripped him away. His son begging him to move on. He wished he had Dick's courage.

"You can trust him. He's the man who sponsors Batman and is Dick's father. And I think he deserves to know the truth," Jim said.

Who was Jim talking to?

A man sat up from the floor of the backseat, settling into the cushions.

Bruce jerked his head toward him.

"Nightwing did have a lot of praise about Batman," the man said.

Bruce gasped as he recognized the man's face.

He was the teenager Bruce watched Dick kill.

Cian Andrews.

* * *

 _Whaaaaaaaaaaaat?_


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: The Monsters and The Weak**

 **Chapter Four**

 **Summary:** Bruce Wayne and Officer Dick Grayson are tied up together in a warehouse in Bludhaven as hostages. As negotiations heat up, Bruce learns the horrifying truth of what his son does as an officer of the law.

 **Author's Note: Thank you ALL for your kind reviews, for following me, for favoriting me, for begging me to update. You all inspired me. I'm glad you like the story thus far! This chapter was a bit hard to write, I tried to picture how they would feel after going through that tough ordeal, and I felt like Dick's emotions would overwhelm him, because he no longer had the strength to hold up his wall. They are human, and I feel that this is how they would react. I feel like it's a bit OOC, but the reaction felt right to me. This is a story about fathers and sons. I truly hoped this ending spoke to you and fits. I struggled on it for weeks.**

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Batman, Nightwing, or other DC characters.

" _Long ago we realized we can't possibly solve all the world's problems. And maybe we shouldn't even try. We understood that we needed to develop our hearts and minds and not just our fighting skills. With all the good that needs to be done, it was impossible to accept that nobody should ever do what we do 24/7. That way lies madness. Trust me, I know. If you come to believe you're a god and you fail, where does that leave you?"_

\- Dick Grayson (as Nightwing)

* * *

Cian shifted under Bruce's unrelenting stare. He chuckled uneasily. "Uh, you look like you've seen a ghost."

Bruce flinched. "What in hell? Does Dick know you're alive? Do you have any idea what you've put my son through?"

"Bruce," Gordon's voice carried an edge of warning.

Bruce inhaled a deep breath, trying to calm his boiling rage.

"Dick knows," Gordon said. "It was his idea."

"To get kidnapped and shot?"

"He knew the consequences. Hell, Cian warned Dick more than once. He wouldn't listen to reason."

"Mr. Wayne, sir..." Cian said. He shifted in his seat again and lowered his head. "Dick saved my life. He gave a fresh start."

"Explain," Bruce ordered. "Now."

"Hot chocolate," Cian blurted out.

Bruce's furrowed his brows. That made no sense. Was it some type of code between him and Gordon, or Dick?

Cian laughed at Bruce's expression and somehow it gave the kid courage to continue: "I used to help my dad with the business by selling drugs and connecting with his partners on the corner of Avalon Hill Street, right under Little Drawbridge. When Dick first started patrolling, he would stop by, offer me hot chocolate, and sit there for fifteen minutes without saying a word. I would taunt him and pour out the hot chocolate or discard it."

Cian grew quiet. He twirled his thumbs around each other on his lap.

"One day, he didn't come with hot chocolate. It was a newspaper article and some pictures..." Cian shut his eyes. "It was one of my regulars. His kids somehow gotten into his drug stash, and it was a bad strain of it and they..."

Bruce winced. He'd seen drug overdose in children in Gotham far too often. There were lesser cases of that over the years, but it still happened.

Cian opened his eyes. "Dick said that I helped put those drugs out there. I was an accomplice in their deaths. Intentional or not. He asked if that was the world I wanted to create. If that was the man I wanted to be, to make a profit for myself, damned the consequences." The thumbs twirling stopped. "I tried to ignore it. But I kept the pictures of their bodies, I kept looking at them...I talked to my father about it once. You want to know what he said? 'A damn shame'."

The hot anger in Bruce's stomach coiled tighter.

"Dick stopped coming around and I found another regular. Three more, actually. I don't know what happened, one day, somebody recalled reading about those kids. And you know what I had to say about it?"

Bruce shook his head.

Cian chuckled. "I said, 'Oh, it was a damn shame'. Hearing me say that was a wake-up call. I hunted Dick down. I caught him patrolling the usual spots, when I got into his car to talk to him..." Cian smiled. "He had a fresh cup of hot chocolate waiting for me. Smug bastard."

Bruce mirrored Cian's expression. Dick was a good people reader. It took time to built Dick's trust, yet once you had it, Dick was the most loyal man on your side.

Cian continued on, telling Bruce of how dangerous it would be to leave the family business. His mother tried once. Her father was beaten within an inch of his life and Andrews would threaten to do it once again if she did. Andrews didn't take well to disappointments, and to those who tried to leave.

"So, Dick came up with a plan," Cian said.

Bruce glanced at Gordon who turned his vehicle onto another street. "You were a part of it."

"Now you are too," Jim said.

Why hadn't Dick called him? Why hadn't Dick asked Bruce, or Batman, to be a part of it? He could have come up with a better plan than involving Dick supposedly killing Cian and sending the rage of a mafia upon him.

He clenched his jaw. He had to lecture Dick about this later, let him know that he shouldn't endanger his life so carelessly like this!

Bruce inhaled a sharp breath. "When Dick became an officer, I knew there would be dangers...but..."

"You should be damn proud of your boy," Jim snapped.

Bruce blinked, surprised by the hostility in Jim's voice. Where had that come from? What did he say wrong?

"Do you even know..." Jim hissed through his teeth and stared at the rearview mirror at Cian. The knuckles around the steering wheel tightened. His jaw clenched.

Bruce watched him gather his emotions.

Finally, Jim said, "Do you remember a conversation we had together once a few years ago, when Dick once said that we couldn't possibly solve all Gotham's problems?"

Bruce searched through his memories, through the Thanksgiving and get-togethers he and Dick had with Jim Gordon, and sometimes with his daughter, Barbara. He couldn't recollect a time where Dick would've brought that statement up, not...

Bruce froze.

Dick had said that to Gordon.

As Nightwing.

When he, Batman, and Gordon were huddled together around the Bat-Signal.

How...

Jim smirked and cocked a brow at him. "Did you forget that I am a detective as well?"

Bruce chuckled. He always suspected that Jim might've known the truth.

"Dick also knew that he couldn't save all of Bludhaven's problems. He said that he didn't want to lose himself in that madness to purge the darkness out of the world."

Bruce remembered. Batman and Nightwing had gotten in a bit of an argument in front of Gordon during a case. It was not their finest moment, and Jim Gordon was surprised to see the rife between them.

"What did he tell you?" Jim said. "Come on, I know you remember."

"He wanted to work hard to save the heart of the people, to develop and strengthen his own heart. Because even if the darkness still strived, at least he could keep the light beating and shining in this world."

"I didn't know adults were capable of cliché and deep conversations," Cian muttered.

"Can you handle it?" Gordon teased.

Bruce noticed they pulled up toward the hospital and Gordon drove around, searching for a parking spot.

Gordon cleared his throat. "Bruce, I know you're scared of losing Dick, of the constant dangers he puts himself in, but remember, he's not you."

 _He's not Batman,_ Bruce heard Jim's unspoken words.

"I don't want him to become me, I think that's why..." _Why I pushed him away. Why I hurt him. I'm so terrified that I may have to end up burying him. If I push him away now, if I build up a barrier, it wouldn't hurt when it happens._

Bruce thought of Dick in the hospital now. He'd come so close to losing his son.

No.

That wasn't true.

He lost Dick a long time ago, because he forced his son out of his life.

"Anyway," Jim said as he parked the car. "You should be thanking Cian. If it weren't for his help, we never would've been able to pinpoint which of the wharfs Andrews was holding Dick at."

Bruce shook his head as it dawned upon him. "The trace couldn't be narrowed down to a specific location, could it? Only a general area."

"We would've had eight wharfs to search, and if we entered the wrong one, Andrews would've gotten an alert that we were coming and moved Dick again."

Bruce glanced back at the teen in the back who stared at his hands folded upon his lap, fiddling with his thumbs.

"Thank you, Cian."

Cian shrugged. "It was the least I could do. He saved my life."

* * *

Bruce and Jim found Amy in the hospital waiting room. They'd left Cian in the car.

Amy had a plastic cup of coffee in her hand. She rose to her feet upon their arrival.

"Commissioner Gordon. Mr. Wayne," Amy greeted.

"No need to be so formal," Jim said. "How's Dick doing?"

Bruce and Jim sat down in their own seat across from Amy.

"He's in surgery now," Amy said. She stared at Bruce. "How are you doing?"

"Shaken up, but I'm fine," Bruce said. "Did they say..."

"Does he need to be checked out?" Amy asked Gordon. "Dick said Bruce might pull something like this."

Gordon chuckled. "I had a doctor check him out before we found you. A little roughed up, but he's good."

Bruce glanced between the two, miffed that they were worrying over him when Dick was the one in surgery.

 _Calm down, Bruce,_ a voice that sounded like Dick's echoed in his mind, _they know I'm going to be pissed if they didn't check out for your well-being._

He sighed and glanced down at his outfit. Blood stained his pants and shirt...his son's. He had washed his hands earlier, and even still, Dick's blood had dried in the creases of Bruce's fingernails.

He couldn't help but feel responsible for the blood that ended up on his hands.

"Bruce, Dick is a fighter, he'll pull through," Amy said softly.

"I pushed him away," Bruce said. "I...I wonder if he did all of this for my attention, to prove..."

Amy's free hand gripped one of Bruce's. "You and I both know that Dick's stupid heart got him here. The lives of others has always been above his own. Maybe he felt like he had to prove something, but this...getting shot and protecting _you_...it wasn't your fault. It was Dick's decision."

"You can hate it, but respect it, Bruce," Gordon said.

His throat worked. "Amy, did anything else happen to him when I was dragged out?"

Amy took a sip of her coffee. "He took a couple more beatings."

"What did they..."  
"He's safe, Bruce. Instead of worrying what happened, why don't you worry about how you're going to take care of him and help him heal when he gets out of the surgery?"

Bruce then noticed that Amy had a bandage on her inner elbow as if she gave blood. He gestured to it.

She shrugged. "I may not be of the same blood type, but I couldn't do nothing. There are officers lined up on the fourth floor to donate their own blood for Dick. Maybe you should do the same."

He chuckled. "Dick is a universal recipient. He can accept any pretty much any blood type."

"Well, than I can tease him for being infected with my blood," Amy said.

Bruce smiled and took her advice. He and Gordon headed down to the fourth floor. When he stepped off the elevator, his jaw nearly dropped as he saw a long line from the doorway at the other end of the hallway. It wasn't only Bludhaven officers. Bruce noticed a few of Gotham's.

As Nightwing, Dick inspired nearly every caped-figure and hero to follow him and listen to him.

As Officer Grayson, Dick inspired officers to donate blood for cause because Dick had gotten hurt in the line of duty.

Dick may not solve all of the world's problems, but his heart shined through the darkness and beat strongly within all those he touched.

* * *

 _No. Please. Don't do this._

A cruel laughter echoed around him, chilling Dick to the core. He was chained to the vast darkness, he couldn't see where the chains hooked, but they kept him locked in place.

 _You will never escape me,_ Andrews' voice whispered, crawling goosebumps up Dick's spine.

A finger trailed down Dick's arm and down his back, toward...

 _No! Somebody help him._

A warmth wrapped around his fingers, like a life-line.

"Dick?" the voice was so far away...so far, like he was hearing it under water.

Dick struggled against the chains, he opened his mouth to cry out to the voice, but the cold hand of Andrews covered it. _You think you're a hero? You're weak. Pathetic._

Dick trembled. No...he wasn't...

 _You're a poor imitation of Batman. Even when you try to be strong and in control, it's a mockery. You're a child playing dressed up._

Damn it. Andrews was right...he got...

"Chum?" The voice broke through Dick's inner turmoil. "Please, Dick, please. I'm here. I'm not leaving. Please..."

BRUCE!

Warmth flooded through his body and he jerked. The coldness of Andrews left him and Dick pulled at the chains, struggling to break free to the surface.

He wheezed in a breath as he opened his eyes, pushing the nightmare away.

"Easy, chum, it's okay. You're okay." Bruce was at his bedside, his grip strong in Dick's hand.

"Br-Bruce..." Dick gasped.

Bruce smiled, full of reassurance and love. "I'm here. I told you I wasn't leaving you."

Memories flooded back, garbled at first but Dick picked it up quickly. Tied-up together at the warehouse. The beatings. Getting shot. The goodbye.

Emotions swelled within, blocking out the pain his body was feeling. His tears stung his eyes.

 _Be strong. You're an officer. A vigilante hero._

Dick's lower lip quivered. He felt like that small child, all those years ago, helpless, afraid, and for once, Dick didn't want to bury that child down.

Bruce's gaze took Dick in and his smile grew soft and sad. "Oh, chum, it's okay."

Dick gasped as Bruce wrapped his arms around him, careful of his left arm which was now in a sling, and covered in bandages.

"You're safe," Bruce said. "You're safe."

A racked sob erupted from Dick's mouth and he struggled to contain it, to hold it back.

"It's okay, chum," Bruce assured. "Let it out. You're safe."

And Dick did. The sobs were hard and his chest ached with each eruption. He buried his face into the crevice between Bruce's neck and shoulder, and wept.

"Oh, Dick," Bruce said, voice heavy with emotions.

 _Please. Don't think less of me._

"It's okay," Bruce muttered, over and over. "You're safe. I got you."

His safety net was here.

Dick cried, for the beatings, for the taunts, for the struggles, for all that he endured, and for having Bruce here with him, safe.

* * *

The next morning, Dick was awake and more coherent. He sat up in his hospital bed, talking softly with Amy as he gave his detailed report. In the corner of the room, Bruce slept, awkwardly in a stiff-cushioned chair.

"I'm glad you're doing alright, partner," Amy said. She closed her notebook and stared at him. "I'm going to give you an order that you'll going to hate, but I must enforce it."

Dick held his breath. Was...was she going to kick him off the force? He wouldn't be surprised.

"Go home with Bruce, and heal. Get better. Then come back when you're ready. You hear me?"

Dick blinked. He glanced over at Bruce. Would Bruce want him to come back? He didn't know if he wanted to go back. Hear all the lectures, all the points of why Bruce was right and how Dick didn't know what he was doing, that he could never amount to the greatness of Bruce, of Batman.

Amy lightly smacked his shoulder. "Give Bruce some credit. He knows."

Dick gapped. "What? Amy!"

Bruce stirred in his deep slumber.

Dick winced and lowered his voice. "Amy, that was supposed to be kept a secret between..."

"Don't blame me," she chided, holding up a finger. "Jim is the tattle-tale. I told you we couldn't trust him." She grinned. "Relax, Dick. I think it's a good thing he knows." She glanced at Bruce before she rose to her feet and knocked on the door twice. "Besides, you've got a visitor."

The door opened and someone wearing an over-sized hoodie, which covered his face walked in. The figure pulled the hood back to reveal a grinning Cian. Cian held up a paper cup.

"Hot chocolate?"

Dick laughed. "Sounds amazing."

Cian handed it over. "Don't get too excited about it. I got it from the cafeteria below, and if hospital food is anything to go by, it probably tastes like shit."

Dick took a sip of the watery hot chocolate, it tasted like rinsed water from a coffee pot. "Tastes like piss. At least it's a step up from shit."

Cian laughed...then it fell as Cian's eyes drank in the sight of Dick. "I'm so sorry...I..."

"You're not your father. You didn't do this."

"But if I..."

"I don't want to hear you blaming yourself. I knew the consequences and I got cocky. Besides, it all worked out in the end."

"I don't know how I would have felt, moving onto a better life knowing you got tortured and killed for it," Cian said.

"He didn't."

Dick and Cian both held their breaths.

Bruce wearily stepped up from the chair and walked over to Dick's bedside, hair sticking out in odd places.

"Dick is safe. And so are you. Focus on that," Bruce said to Cian.

Dick peered up at Bruce. "Okay...did you get hit in the head one too many times yesterday?"

"I nearly watched my son die," Bruce said, flicking his gaze to Dick. "I watched my son get tortured and beaten. I watched my son who was so eager to give himself up to save me. You go through that, and let me know if that doesn't change you."

Dick swallowed. He shifted on the bed, shame and guilt swirling in his stomach.

Bruce's hand landed on Dick's knee and squeezed it.

The guilt lightened.

Cian smiled softly, watching the interaction between the two. "Listen, Dick, I'm heading back to Gotham tonight. I'm being sent out to my new identity and new life. I, I don't know if I'm ever going to see you again. I want to thank you, for everything, you...you didn't have to do all of this...you didn't have to sacrifice..."

"You were worth it. You still are. You deserve a chance to be who and what you want to be," Dick said. "Don't let your father take that away from you, and don't let him haunt you when you leave."

"What's going to happen to him?"

Dick hid his smile. He admired Cian. Despite all that Andrews had done, Cian still held onto a bit of love for his father. "Jail, most likely. If he doesn't escape."

Cian nodded. "I hope he doesn't." He glanced back at Amy and sighed. He reached out a hand to Dick. "Thank you. I promise you. I'll make something great of myself. I'll make all of this..."

"Idiot," Dick interrupted. "You're already great. You're walking away. You want a change. That makes all of this worthwhile."

Cian chuckled. "You're right. Ha. Thank you for everything."

Dick shook Cian's hands, both firm, both as men making promises that they'll be a better version of themselves tomorrow.

He watched Cian walk to the door and gave a small wave before Amy escorted him out.

He was left alone with Bruce.

"Alfred is on his way, with better hot chocolate," Bruce said.

Dick beamed. "He always put those tiny marshmallows in them. That's the secret."

Bruce chuckled.

Dick caught the stained-tears on Bruce's undershirt. He felt his ears grow warm as he remembered sobbing in Bruce's arms last night. He was still a weakling who needed his father.

"Stop it."

Dick glanced up at Bruce who took the paper cup from Dick's hands. He set it on the nightstand next to the IV drip. He turned back to Dick.

"Whatever you're telling yourself," Bruce said. "Stop it."

Dick furrowed his brows. "What makes you think I'm telling myself bad things?"

"Because I'm the reason why you doubt yourself," Bruce said.

Dick blinked. "Wh-what? Bruce, that's not..."

"I came so close to losing you, chum. So close to burying you. One of my worst fears nearly happened, and I realized all the time we've spent the last couple years, fighting and pushing you away..." Bruce's voice choked up and he covered his mouth.

Dick watched in awe, as the vulnerable part of Bruce that he started hiding from Dick when Dick became a teenager was now being exposed.

"I'd realized, my worst fear already happened. I lost you when I pushed you away. I lost you when I stopped speaking to you..." Bruce sighed. "I spent a majority of my life turning fear into a weapon against Gotham's enemies...I never thought I would use fear against you. I'm so...I'm sorry. You deserved better."

Dick's throat worked.

"I realized...I'm like Andrews."

Fire ignited within Dick's heart and he shook his head. "No...no, Bruce, you're nothing like Andrews. You..."

"I expected my son to follow my orders...orders that arose from my fears. Cian had to hide his bravery from his father to start a new life. And you...you threw your courage into my face."

"Bruce, I..." Dick was at lost for words. What was he supposed to say? Maybe he was the one that got hit in the head too many times.

"You're the light in my darkness, Dick," Bruce said.

It was probably the closet _I love you_ Dick would ever get from him. Bruce used to be able to express it so easily when Dick was a child, but when Dick grew, the darkness had consumed Bruce once more. Alfred always tried to reassure Dick that he was the light in Bruce's life, that he was Bruce's hope and optimism.

Hearing Bruce confirm that...Dick fought back the sting of tears in his eyes. He was not going to cry again. He... He wiped at them. Damn it.

Bruce smiled, and chuckled softly. "You don't have anything to prove to me, Dick."

They embraced each other and Dick clung to his foster father, clung to him as if he were afraid he was going to lose Bruce to the darkness once again.

Brue held Dick a bit tighter, and Dick ignored the throb of pain in his shoulder where the bullet wound had been sewn and wrapped.

He could feel his and Bruce's relationship slowly stitching back up, but he knew that, like his bullet wound, while it could be patched up, there will still be a lot of pain and tenderness while it heals. It will take time, Dick was no idiot that what they just went through would not immediately solve all their problems.

It sparked an awareness, a startling perception.

Dick held onto Bruce, and made a promise, a vow.

He would be the light that stood between Bruce and the monster of fear.

And he will allow Bruce to be his light.

He closed his eyes, and allowed the darkness to surround him, knowing that Bruce would catch him, shall he fall.

* * *

 _~Fin~_

 _Please let me know if you liked it, or hated it, or any other thoughts you may have. Thank you for reading this and supporting me and waiting for the final update. You are all amazing. And mostly, thank you for reading. As a writer, it's one of my biggest joy, to share my work._


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